Love's Logic
by PuraJazzBot
Summary: (G1)Sequel ficlet to Eclipse... Prowl and Jazz share a moment together... contains ProwlJazz slash..


Prowl awoke a good one and a half hours before his internal alarm was set to go off, signalling the start of another day of work and duties within the Autobase that was the Ark. For a good long while he lay in his recharge berth staring at the orange ceiling above him, for once not thinking of the workload that lay ahead of him, but instead focusing on the soft purr of systems that filled his audio sensors.

Turning his head to his right, his optics came to rest on the dim, blue glow that emanated from beneath Jazz's visor. The Special Operations Agent lay on his left side, slightly curled in what the humans called 'the fetal position', still deep in recharge and looking so peaceful as he slept that Prowl just did not have it in him to wake him up…. Not just yet anyway…. Not after what had happened only two days ago.

Prowl partly blamed himself for agreeing with Optimus Prime to send Jazz to sabotage a new Decepticon land stronghold, thereby putting the one mech he truly loved with all his being right in the proverbial lion's den. That day, logic had won out over love – Jazz was naturally the most logical choice for the mission, being the most skilled and adaptable of all the Autobots. And he had accepted the job without question, so unwavering was his trust in the tactician – and Prowl had nearly sent him to his death for that.

Jazz had managed to successfully infiltrate the base, and while the Decepticons accounted for much of his surface damage, it was the resulting explosion of the base that booked him a one-night stay in Ratchet's medbay. Thankfully, none of his injuries had been severe, and the Chief Medical Officer released him from his care the day before. Prowl had been both relieved and apprehensive.

Yet, Jazz being Jazz, held no grudge. He seemed to have forgiven his fellow black and white completely, after all, why else would he be recharging in the same berth as him? Had the positions been switched, Prowl knew it would have taken him a while to forgive his mate, bonded or no.

He propped himself up on his right elbow and rested his head in his hand, careful not to disturb his sleeping partner. His free left hand flexed and relaxed , wanting to take one of the other's black hands in his white one, but again he resisted, knowing that Jazz needed his rest, and that if the Porsche was awoken now, he'd never go back to sleep.

Instead, Prowl balled his fingers into a fist and kept his left arm tucked against his mid-section, contenting himself with simply keeping watch over his beloved and trying to relax his own tensed circuits. Jazz was always telling him that he needed to chill out and loosen up more, and with good reason. Prowl could be quite uptight and distant if he wanted to be.

Heaving a mental sigh, he looked lovingly at the mech beside him, taking in the graceful curves of his shoulders, waist and hips. The saboteur was definitely attractive, no two ways about that. Sometimes Prowl wondered why Jazz had accepted him. He was, after all, one of the most popular Autobots, he could have had anyone he wanted. Yet he chose to love the tactician. Prowl had meant to ask him why, but so far had been unable to work up the courage.

It was not like they had tons in common. Prowl was orderly, analytical and level-headed, preferring to spend his free time engrossed in a book. Jazz, on the other hand, was out-going, more 'spur of the moment' and once in a while tended to act without thinking. He was more inclined to party than to read. Sometimes these differences had the potential to irritate the slag out of each other, especially in their early days. These days they seemed to complement each other.

As Prowl watched him, Jazz's lips twitched into what could have passed for a little smile. Either the Porsche could read the Datsun's thoughts even as he slept, or he was dreaming. Prowl wondered if he was a part of those dreams. Unconsciously, the tactician's left hand moved to touch the smile on his mate's face. He stopped mere millimetres away.

At this point Jazz sighed softly and stirred. Prowl drew his hand back slightly before gently touching the right side of Jazz's face. The touch turned to a stroke; the stroke to a few strokes. The saboteur's black right hand came up and closed around the tactician's white one, pressing it closer against his cheek. The glow beneath the visor brightened and Jazz's smile widened.

"Miss me did ya?" he asked, angling his head to look up at his partner.

A smile tugged at the corners of Prowl's mouth. "To be honest, quite a bit."

Jazz released Prowl's hand and reached up to touch the other's face.

"So did I."

Prowl leaned down, pressed his mouth to Jazz's and kissed him gently. Jazz returned it. Prowl released first and kissed him on the neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Jazz sighed. "For what, this time?"

"For nearly getting you killed."

The Porsche pushed him back and propped himself up on his own elbow so he could look the Datsun in the optics.

"It ain't your fault, love."

"If anything had happened to you…."

Jazz put a finger to Prowl's lips, silencing him.

"Nothing happened. I'm still here. You ain't getting' rid of me that easily. You did what you had to do, and I did what I'm good at. Those are what we specialize in. It don't affect who and what we are personally. I still love ya."

And as if to prove it, he moved his hand to the back of Prowl's neck, pulled him closer and kissed him. Prowl sat up, pulling Jazz up with him, and wrapped his arms around the visored mech, as he returned the kiss. This time it was Jazz that broke off first. He held Prowl close as the tactician rested his head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Jazz grinned as he bent and gently kissed Prowl's forehead.

"But if it makes ya feel any better, I forgive ya."

Prowl smiled.

… And it was at this point that both of their alarms went off, signalling the start of a new day.


End file.
